Are You a Fan of Delicious Flavor?
by WayLowHalo
Summary: Previously titled '100 Moments'. A series of oneshots detailing moments in our favorite Psych characters lives.
1. Introduction

_Author's Note: Hello all! Like the summary said this is an answer to a challenge over on Psychfic. Basically I'm given 100 prompts and they're all just one word or one small phrase and I have to write a little fic based off of it. So yeah, that means that, assuming I succeed, there will be 100 of these little oneshots. They are not necessarily connected to the one before but if by any chance they are I will let you know with each new update. The characters and possilbe warnings for each will also change, so again, I'll let you know when necessary. I hope you enjoy and please review!_

_**Disclaimer**: Psych and all related characters do not belong to me, despite how it pains me to admit it. _

# 1 - Introduction

Shawn Spencer can remember the first time he ever met Gus. He can remember just about everything that's ever happened to him, but really, that's beside the point. The day he met Gus is more important than most of those other days.

It was Pre-K, and even then Shawn was always the center of attention. He supposes he was probably the only natural choice for the teacher to pick. The friendly, enthusiastic, not in the least shy Shawn Spencer.

Gus had been the new kid. Shy, awkward, nervous, in retrospect kind of geeky in his pressed pants and button up shirt. The teacher, Mrs. Stitely had led Gus directly through the mass chaos that is 15 four year olds, straight to the center where Shawn had been busy attempting to show everyone how the blood rushed to his face when he stood on his head.

"Get up, Shawn," Mrs. Stitely had said, her tone making her inner conflict between exasperation and amusement obvious. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay on your feet?"

"I don't think yesterday should count," four year old Shawn answered earnestly. "I didn't really get off my feet when I climbed on the lunch table."

"I suppose that's true," Mrs. Stitely had agreed after a moment. The boy was really too smart for his own good. "Shawn, I have someone I want you to meet," she said then. "I would like you to show him around and introduce him to people. Burton Guster, this is Shawn Spencer, Shawn, this is Burton."

Mrs. Stitely had hurried away then, drawn by the screaming of a little girl who had somehow gotten her hair stuck in the class's hamster cage, leaving the boys to get acquainted on their own.

"You don't look much like a Burton," Shawn remembers telling his new charge. "I'll call you Gus."

And the rest, as they say, is history.


	2. Love

_A/N: So here's # 2. No particular warnings for this one. Except that it's a bit smushy, really. Kind of a change of pace for me. I hope you all like it and please review! _

_**Disclaimer**: Wait a minute... nope, still don't own. Rats. _

# 2 – Love

Standing in her bedroom and deciding what to wear for her date Juliet wasn't quite sure how it had happened. She had been doing such a good job at resisting the Spencer charm. They'd had an established routine, Shawn would come to the station, flirt, and then ask her out in a seemingly joking way and she would flirt back and then turn him down in just as seemingly joking of a way. It had been going so well.

And then she had said yes. She still wasn't sure why. Though the moment of shocked surprise on his face before he had wiped it off had made it worth it. And the date hadn't been bad in the making it worthwhile department either.

Shawn had turned out to be surprisingly romantic, for their first date taking her to a nice Italian restaurant and then for a moonlit walk on the beach. Later she had told herself it would only be a one-time thing, she did after all work with the guy.

Then he had asked her out a second time and before she had quite realized it they had become an official couple. Now, six months later, she realized she couldn't back out even if she wanted to. And she very firmly did not want to. No, life with Shawn was too much fun.

At first they had tried to keep it quiet. She almost laughs whenever she thinks of that now, of course. Wherever Shawn Spencer is involved nothing is ever quiet for long. It certainly hadn't been quiet when Lassiter had found them kissing in front of Shawn's motorcycle in the parking lot.

* * *

_"Come on Jules, just a little kiss before we go in, no one will see. Please? You know you want to!"_

_"Sssh, Shawn. Not at the station. We agreed, remember?" Juliet said sternly, trying to ignore the playful pleading in his eyes and voice and turning to go inside._

_"Just a little one Jules," Shawn wheedled, suddenly in front of her once more. "Just to hold me over for the day."_

_Looking into his laughing and playful eyes Juliet couldn't help but smile. "Well, I suppose since there's no one around…"_

_And she was in his arms, his soft lips on hers and everything else ceased to exist. There was only that moment and his lips on hers when…_

_"O'Hara! What the hell are you doing?"_

_Startled, Juliet jerked out of Shawn's warm embrace and turned and met the wide, gaping gaze of her partner, standing half out of his car with his jaw hanging open. _

_"Really Lassy? Has it been so long for you that you don't even recognize it when you see it? That's sad dude," Shawn said cheekily, a grin tracing his now swollen lips._

_Smacking Shawn, Juliet turned her attention back to her partner. "Carlton…"_

_"O'Hara… why… with Spencer?" Lassiter spluttered, seemingly at a loss for words as he stared hopelessly between the two of them._

_

* * *

_

Having decided what dress she wanted and sitting down at her vanity table to put on her make-up Juliet grinned at the memory. It had taken Carlton a while to accept that his partner and Shawn Spencer were an item, and even now he still occasionally gave her looks that asked quite plainly, _why?_

Yep, life with Shawn Spencer was definitely an adventure. After six months she could most certainly attest to that. She already couldn't imagine life without him. As she put her earrings in she smiled gently, yes, Shawn was a must have for her now. She wasn't completely sure just how it had happened, but she was quite sure that she loved that guy.

* * *

Later that night, sitting across from Shawn in the restaurant, watching the devilish sparkle in his eyes as he laughed she smiled again. Yes, she loved him; more than anything. Now she just had to figure out how to tell him.


	3. Light

_A/N: So here's another one. The prompt word is light. It's very short and I apologize for that but really, I didn't think there was anything else to say. I hope it's enjoyable despite its shortness and please review! They really do make my day and they do wonders for inspiring me to write more! Hint hint. _

_**Disclaimer**: Nope, unfortuantely it's still not mine. _

**# 3 - Light**

"Daddy!"

The piercing wail shattered the silence of the night and Shawn groaned, turning over in the bed.

"Daddy!"

"You're being paged," Juliet murmured sleepily and he groaned once more, pulling himself to a sitting position and stumbling to his feet.

"Duty calls," he muttered, running his fingers through his wife's curls as he passed. "Be back soon."

Entering his daughter's room a moment later and switching on the light his eyes instantly sought out the tear-streaked face on the bed. "Daddy," the little girl sniffed, and any irritation Shawn may have felt at being woken in the middle of the night evaporated instantly.

"What is it Baby Girl?" he asked softly, sitting down on the bed and pulling her into his arms.

With a small whimper the little girl buried her face in her father's pajama shirt and sniffed again. "It was dark," she whispered, her voice slightly muffled. "I had a scary dream and when I woke up the light was gone and it was dark."

"What was in your dream, Baby Girl? Do you want to tell me?" Shawn murmured, gently stroking her hair.

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head against his chest and instead she asked, "Why was the light gone? Will you turn on a light for me, Daddy?"

"Yes," Shawn whispered, kissing her forehead and hugging her tightly, all of a sudden feeling a fierce rush of love for his little girl. "I will always turn on a light for you."


	4. Dark

_A/N: Hello all! Another chappie for you! Thank you for the reviews of the previous chapters and I hope you like this one! The prompt word is dark..._

_**Disclaimer**: I've been told it's not mine... I suppose it's not... (pouts)..._

**# 4 - Dark**

The power had gone out. He was at the Psych office and it was just as dark inside as it was outside. Of course Shawn had never thought to stock the office with flashlights or candles. No, that was way to responsible of a thing for Shawn to do. And of course Shawn had his company car, so he couldn't even leave. He had said something about a major pineapple shortage and then he'd disappeared. With Gus' car. Naturally.

Gus sighed. He hated the dark. It wasn't that he was afraid… he just disliked the dark… He was a big fan of seeing what was around him, thank you very much. There was nothing wrong with that. Besides, things could sneak up on you in the dark… a feat made much harder when there was light.

Shifting uneasily he scowled. Just like Shawn not to have taken any precautions. And just like Shawn to have his car during a major blackout at night.

Gus sighed again. It wasn't entirely Shawn's fault, he knew. It wasn't like Shawn had known the blackout was coming and had intentionally taken the car so he would be stuck here. Besides, Shawn didn't know of his… dislike… of the dark, so even if he had known of the blackout, his taking of Gus' car hadn't been to leave him stuck here.

No, he had never told Shawn, who he was sure would have a field day with that particular piece of knowledge. He, Gus, would never hear the end of it. Never. Gus could just hear Shawn now, _'Oh, don't be a scared porcupine, Gus. It's just a little dark.'_

Yeah, his best friend would say something like that, he was sure. Even if he wasn't _scared_ of the dark. He just disliked it…

All the same he did wish Shawn would hurry up and come back already.

* * *

"Dude, it's dark in here!" Shawn exclaimed, opening the door of the Psych office and striding through, switching on a flashlight as he did so, illuminating some of the office and revealing Gus at his desk.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Gus said dryly, trying not to show how grateful he was for the light, forcing as much sarcasm into his tone as he could. "The power's out on the whole block, Shawn. Of course it's dark and you don't have any flashlights or candles here."

"Gus, don't be a grumpy kangaroo. Besides, I brought them now," Shawn said, unfazed, dumping a plastic bag on Gus' desk and smirking. "I know you don't like the dark."

"How could you know that Shawn?" Gus demanded. "I never told you that!"

"Dude, seriously? You're seriously asking me that? Did you really think you could keep it from me and I wouldn't notice? Me?" Shawn exclaimed as Gus just glared at his friend, taking a second flashlight and switching it on.

"I'm not scared, Shawn," Gus stated firmly.

"I didn't say you were," Shawn said, eyes twinkling as he grinned at his friend.

"You were thinking it," Gus insisted, pointing a finger at him. "I know you. And I'm not scared. I just don't like the dark. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Dude, of course not," Shawn said, smiling as Gus warily stared at him, trying to decide if he was being condescending or not. After a moment Shawn turned his attention to the pineapple he had brought in with him, slicing it up and preparing it for eating, and still Gus studied him.

"Want some?" Shawn asked, offering Gus some pineapple, to which the latter mutely declined.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Shawn had figured this out, Gus thought after a moment. As long as he didn't make fun of him… and in all fairness he had brought him flashlight. That was a nice thing to do, and it did make him feel better. That was a good thing, right?

"Seriously though, Gus. It's nothing to be ashamed about," Shawn said then, perfectly serious as he prepared to eat his pineapple. "A lot of people share your feelings about the dark, you know."

"That's true," Gus agreed, still a little skeptical.

"The fact that most of them are five year old girls shouldn't in any way threaten your masculinity, don't worry dude."

A cocky grin traced Shawn's face then and Gus frowned. He should have known better. This was Shawn Spencer after all. "Shut up Shawn! I'm not afraid of the dark, how many times do I have to tell you?"

He definitely should have known better. And to think, he had just started to feel grateful. Some things would never change.

_A/N: So, personally, I'm not really sure what I think of this one. Opinions? Thoughts? I won't know unless you review! _


	5. Seeking Solace

_Author's Note: Right, so, I know that in the pilot episode Shawn says he was 18 when his father arrested him for stealing a car but I decided to take a slight liberty with that. I made him on the verge of turning 18 but still only 17. Hope that doesn't bother anyone too much and I hope you enjoy and please review to tell me what you think!_

_**Disclaimer**: Once again, it's still not mine. Don't know why I have to keep repeating myself..._

**# 5 - Seeking Solace**

_"I can't believe you arrested your own son! What kind of a father does that?"_

_"The kid needs to learn there are consequences to his actions and stealing cars is not something he can do!"_

_"Don't try and pull that with me! It was your truck, Henry! Yours! He borrowed your truck on his graduation night and you arrested him!"_

17-year-old Shawn Spencer frowned, quickening his pace as the echoes of his parents' argument screamed in his memory. The past 24 hours had not been fun. Not fun at all. His father, mouth pulled down in a grim line, thrusting him into a holding cell for the night, to his parents screaming match over the phone the next day were just the highlights.

Now, arriving at his destination he lifted his hand up and knocked at the door to the Guster residence. After a minute Mrs. Guster stood staring reprovingly at him. "It's a little late for visits, Shawn. Burton's getting ready for bed."

Shawn sighed. It was only 9:30, he seriously doubted Gus was getting ready for bed, but then the Guster's did tend to coddle their son. "I know Mrs. G. Can I see him though? Just this once?" he asked, too tired to give her his usual cocky grin, and maybe she noticed its absence because, with a slight frown, she stepped back and allowed him entrance.

"Burton! You have a visitor," she called up the stairs, motioning for Shawn to go on up.

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed, jumping up from his desk when his best friend entered his room. "I heard about what happened! I didn't think your dad would let you out until your 18th birthday!"

"My dad doesn't know I'm here," Shawn muttered, slumping down on Gus' bed. "He and my mom were having a screaming match over the phone when I left. So did you hear who arrested me?" he asked, anger and bitterness spilling into his tone at the last part.

"Well… yeah," Gus admitted slowly, sitting back down and looking at his friend carefully. "That's harsh man. He's pretty intense but I never thought he would actually arrest you. I tried calling you last night when I heard but he wouldn't let you come to the phone."

Shawn snorted, "Yeah," he said, anger blazing in his eyes. "That's because he let me spend the whole night and most of today in the station's holding cells." Suddenly Shawn was up and pacing Gus' room, his anger and agitation suddenly too great to remain sitting.

"Wow," Gus muttered, not knowing what else to say, not knowing how to make this right for his friend.

"He said he wanted to teach me a lesson," Shawn snarled, his voice mocking, not seeming to have heard Gus. "And no matter how much I begged him…"

Shawn's voice broke and he stood with his back to Gus, trying to get himself under control.

"Dude… are you okay?" Gus asked quietly, awkwardly putting his hand on his buddy's shoulder.

Shawn took a deep shuddering breath and chuckled weakly, bitterly. "I don't know if 'okay' is the right word, Gus," he admitted after a moment. "I hate him."

And so the two friends stood, Gus with his hand on Shawn's shoulder while the latter took deep breaths, trying to calm down and thankfully drawing some measure of comfort from his best friend that he had been unable to find elsewhere.

Finally Shawn turned, facing his friend once more and forcing a slight smile. It wasn't much, but it was a smile. "Thanks," he murmured softly, meeting his friend's eyes, and Gus, taken aback by the rare seriousness of the moment, nodded, knowing words weren't really necessary.

"Want me to ask my parents if you can stay here for the night?" Gus asked once Shawn had given his friend a returning nod and started heading for the door.

"Nah," Shawn said, turning briefly, seeming to be almost back to his old self. "The old man will notice I'm gone as soon as he's off the phone, if he hasn't already. Better not risk it."

"I'll see you tomorrow though, right?" Gus asked, something in Shawn's demeanor making him ask, and Shawn hesitated, an unreadable look in his eyes before suddenly smiling.

"Yeah. Of course you will, Dude."

And he was gone; leaving Gus with the unshakable feeling that he was lying and something was going on that Shawn hadn't shared.

_A/N: All right, so don't worry. This isn't the end. This story arc will be continued in the next installment, Break Away, which I will try to have up soon. I hope you enjoyed and please, please review!_


	6. Break Away

_A/N: Another update! A bit sooner than I intended... but oh well! This one is connected to "Seeking Solace". After this I have no intentions of continuing this particular story arc... so the next update will be as per usual and not necessarily connected to the others before it. Anyway! I hope you like this and it would make my day if you reviewed to tell me what you think! _

_**Disclaimer**: Still not mine..._

**# 6 - Break Away**

Henry Spencer stood in his kitchen holding his phone, listening to the dial tone. His ex-wife had just hung up on him for trying to teach their son a lesson. Henry shook his head angrily, hanging up the phone and sighing. She never understood what he tried to do with their son. Her and Shawn both. They never understood.

"_You have the right to remain silent…"_

_"Seriously? I mean you're seriously cuffing me and reading me my rights?"_

_"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you…"_

_"Dad! Dad, stop it, I just borrowed your truck!"_

Leaning against the counter Henry closed his eyes wearily, his son's incredulous voice ringing in his ears. The kid had to learn sometime…

Henry sighed, looking in the direction of the stairs. Shawn had left while he had been on the phone, he knew. He had no doubt gone to Gus' to blow off some steam. He was back now though; Henry knew that too. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to be angry with Shawn for sneaking out though. Not this time. Not when he could still remember his pleading voice…

_"Please, Dad, please! Don't leave me here! Dad, PLEASE! I'm sorry I took the truck, okay? Just let me come home with you, don't leave me here!"_

_"It's not going to work, Shawn. You went too far this time," Henry said firmly, locking the door of his son's cell and turning away. _

_"Dad!"_

_Henry stopped then, not turning around, trying to force down the emotion that threatened to come over him at the raw fear in his son's voice. Emotion that would destroy everything he was trying to do here. "No," he said after a moment, walking away._

_"I hate you! I'm your son! Why are you doing this to me? I hate you!"_

_Henry stopped again, refusing to turn though, pain stabbing at his heart before forcing himself to keep walking. Oh God, just keep walking. It was for his own good… Shawn would thank him some day… the kid had to learn his lesson…_

Shaking his head as though that would clear it of the unpleasant memory of the night before, he sighed, and began heading up the stairs. He paused for a moment at his son's door, listening. All was silent within. Should he go in? He sighed again and moved on to the master bedroom. He was so tired, the previous two days were catching up to him and he was so tired. He needed to crash so badly, but somehow, with Shawn's hurt and scared voice echoing in his ears, he didn't think he would get much sleep this night.

* * *

Shifting restlessly, Shawn turned in his bed and stared at his alarm clock. 7 A.M. He hadn't slept at all but at least he knew for sure what he was going to do now.

He was leaving. He couldn't stay with his father anymore. As soon as Henry had left for the station he was going to pack a bag, scrape together his savings, and buy that motorcycle he'd had his eye on for the past month.

The one his father didn't want him to have. Then he was leaving. Heading to Arizona to stay with his mother for a while. At least until his 18th birthday, he was confident she would welcome the company.

Remembering last night, and Gus asking if he would see him the next day Shawn felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't told Gus what he was planning for a reason though. Gus, he knew, would want to talk him out of it. Would want him to stay. And he needed to go…

He would give his best friend a call once he was in Arizona, under his mother's roof. Gus would be upset but… he would understand.

His father, however… well his father didn't need to know… and he wouldn't care anyway…

By 8 o'clock Henry was gone, and by nine so was Shawn.


	7. Heaven

_A/N: Yay, another update! No warnings for this one. Just a little light cutesy type thing. Very short. Enjoy! _

_**Disclaimer**: Psych and all related characters do not belong to me... I do own the first season on DVD tho._

**# 7 - Heaven**

In all of Shawn Spencer's seven years of life he had never seen anything quite so odd looking as the object now residing on the counter of his kitchen. It was a yellow-brown, oval-type spiky _thing._ Furthermore it had a bunch of green leaves growing out of it.

Shawn frowned. He hadn't thought leaves grew off of anything but trees and bushes. Certainly not strange shaped spiky balls. That were yellow no less.

His father, however, had unpacked it from the grocery bag as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. Finally he could contain himself no longer. He had to know what it was.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" Henry muttered distractedly, concentrating on putting the rest of the groceries away.

"What is this?" Shawn asked, pointing to the spiky thing with a head of green.

"Pineapple," Henry grunted, glancing at it and then going back to the groceries.

_Pineapple._ Shawn rolled the word around in his head, considering it. He liked the sound of it.

"Is it food?"

"Of course it's food, Shawn. A fruit to be exact," Henry said, finishing with the groceries and turning to look at his son. "Haven't you ever had pineapple?"

Mutely, Shawn shook his head, still looking at the weird looking fruit. "Can I try some now?"

"You can wait for supper time. Then, yes, you may," Henry told him firmly. "Why don't you go outside until then?"

Once outside as his father had suggested all Shawn could think about was the pineapple inside and what such an odd looking thing would taste like. When his father finally called him in to wash up he was practically bouncing with excitement. Finally sitting down at the table he watched as his dad gave him some of the long awaited fruit and, at long last, he lifted a piece of it up to try.

From the moment it touched his lips he knew. Having that slice of pineapple in his mouth was like being thrust into heaven and he knew it would always be his favorite food.

"Good?" Henry asked, watching him.

"It's the best thing I've ever tasted!" Shawn declared, eagerly reaching for more.


	8. Innocence

_A/N: Here's # 8! Enjoy and drop me a line so I know whether you like it or not!_

_**Disclaimer**: As usual, it's not mine. Just borrowing the wonderful characters for a bit. _

_**Warning**: Character Death. _

**# 8 - Innocence**

She was finally asleep. After hours of tears and questions she was finally asleep. It wasn't the little girl's fault, Shawn knew. She simply didn't understand where her mother had gone, or why her father had seemed so sad. It had scared her, to see him cry.

Sitting by his daughter's bedside Shawn Spencer thought about life. It was such a fickle thing, and it never failed that whenever you were happiest, whenever you had reached pure bliss… it would shatter. Now his wife, his reason for living, his lovely Juliet was gone forever… dead.

Looking at his now sleeping daughter Shawn couldn't help but think it wasn't fair. How was he supposed to explain to her, at the tender age of five, that she would never see her mommy again? Never play with her again, or sit snuggled on the couch reading stories. Never hug her again or give her goodnight kisses.

Five was much too young to have to learn about death. Much too young, and far too innocent.

"_Daddy? Is Mommy an angel now? Will she watch us?"_

Thinking of his daughter's question tears came to Shawn's eyes. Her innocence still astounded him.

"_Is Mommy an angel? Is it okay to still talk to her?"_

_Choking on a stifled sob Shawn smiled at his little girl through his tears. "Yes, Baby, I think Mommy's an angel now, and you can talk to her as much as you want, any time you want, okay?"_

"_Will you talk to her too, Daddy? I think she'd like that."_

"Yeah, I guess you would like that, huh, Jules?" Shawn whispered now, his breath hitching as he tried to control the grief that threatened to consume him. "But you know, it would really be so much easier if you were here with us…"

With an ache deeper than any he had ever felt he knew that she would never be with them again. Never. He would never see her beautiful, smiling face again. Never touch her, or feel her against him, her body fitting his so perfectly. Never catch her beautiful lips in a kiss again…

Never grow old together… never raise their little girl together…

"How am I supposed to do it, Jules? How can I raise her all by myself? I need you… Oh God, Jules, I need you so much, how could you leave us here all alone?"

Without realizing it he had somehow slipped out of his chair, and was now on his knees, openly sobbing and unable to stop.

"Daddy?"

A small gentle voice, blond hair and blue eyes so much like her mother's, and Shawn gasped, trying to get himself under control, his hand stroking her cheek.

"Daddy's okay, Honey. I just miss your mommy. I miss her so much it hurts…"

"I think Mommy misses us too, but you said she is watching us, right, Daddy?"

Blinking through his tears Shawn nodded shakily, unable to form the words he wanted to say to this amazing little girl of his.

"Mommy told me when we go to Heaven we get to see the people we love, so that means we'll see her again then too. We just have to be patient."

Oh, God. Out of the mouths of babes. With a sob Shawn pulled his daughter close, and hugging her tightly nodded into her hair. "I love you," he whispered eventually, once he could manage to talk again.

He would be lost, but for her innocence, he knew. "I love you so much, Baby Girl." Her innocence would be his saving grace, and in that instant he knew they would make it. Knew, as long as they had each other, they would be okay, that they would survive this, however impossible it seemed. They would survive.


	9. Drive

_Author's Note: Hey there! Sorry it's taken me so long to update this, but for some reason this one just wouldn't come out. I'm still not entirely happy with it, however, if I'm perfectly honest I just got tired of looking at it so here it is! Hope it's not too bad and I hope everyone enjoys it! Review please, tell me whether it's as bad as I think or if you like it. So, without further ado..._

**# 9 - Drive**

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer, but we've done all we can for him. If he doesn't wake up within the next 48 hours his chances of doing so are severely limited, and even then there's a chance he may sustain some brain damage."

"What do you mean, brain damage?" Henry Spencer demanded gruffly, trying his best to comprehend this new horror.

"We really won't be sure until he wakes up. If he wakes up."

The doctor spoke gently but his words cut through Henry like a knife, and suddenly he felt he had to sit down. The thought that his son, his vibrant, energetic, so very _alive_ son may never wake up… and if he did he could have brain damage… it was too much.

"He's only lucky he was wearing his helmet at the time, otherwise I'm sure he would be dead now," the doctor said in what he evidently believed to be a comforting tone.

"Shawn always wears his helmet. Always," Gus said then, speaking up for the first time since rushing into the hospital two hours ago and demanding to know his best friend's status. "It's about the only thing he doesn't take chances with."

Glancing at Gus the doctor nodded. "Smart man," he remarked, to which Henry snorted.

"If he were so smart he wouldn't have been out riding that death trap of his at three in the morning while it was pouring down raining outside."

* * *

Sitting at his son's bedside, listening to his shallow breathing and looking at his pale, drawn face, it hit Henry with a staggering impact. Shawn was in a coma. He was in a coma and he may never wake up. Never.

From the moment Shawn had been born Henry had loved him. He had always been his entire world, everything that was good and worthwhile and important. He hadn't always shown it very well, he knew, but it was true nonetheless.

He wondered if Shawn knew that. Knew how important he was to Henry, knew how much his father cared. He did, didn't he?

Shawn was the world. He was the whole world and the thought that he may never wake up was more terrifying than staring down the barrel of a gun had ever been.

Yes, waiting and hoping and praying for his son to wake up was hands down, without a doubt, the scariest, most nerve-wracking experience he had ever had the misfortune to go through.

He only hoped it would end soon, that Shawn would wake up soon.

* * *

So the hours past, and so Shawn refused to wake. Refused to open his eyes and grace his father with one of his annoying devil-may-care smiles. Refused to open his eyes and put Henry's world back on its axis once more. Refused to stop it from spinning wildly out of control. Refused to wake up.

_"If he doesn't regain consciousness within the next 24 hours it's unlikely he ever will…"_

_"May have permanent brain damage…"_

_"May never wake up…"_

"Please, Shawn, please wake up. You have to wake up, Shawn. I wouldn't know what to do without you, please wake up!"

Burton Guster's pleas jerked the elder Spencer out of his grim thoughts. A distant part of Henry's mind noted that Gus was crying; had been silently crying for a while now. The younger man had barely left Shawn's side, the only person to keep such a near constant vigil as Henry himself, only ever leaving for minutes at a time to grab a bite to eat or to go to the bathroom.

"Wake up, Shawn. The doctors say you don't have much time. Dude, you need to wake up."

Listening to his son's best friend Henry wished he could comfort the younger man, wished he could ease his suffering somehow but it was taking every ounce of control he had to keep from breaking down himself and he didn't think he could handle someone else's grief on top of his own. Not even Gus's.

And so he sat there, silently listening to Gus; one hand unconsciously caressing his son's hair, hoping and praying for his boy to wake up.

* * *

Two days. Two days and still Shawn hadn't regained consciousness. 48 hours. Two of the absolute longest days of Henry's entire existence. His son, his only child, wasn't waking up.

_"I'm sorry Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, but it's highly unlikely that he'll ever regain consciousness now. You may want to consider starting to go about your regular routines. We would, of course, call if anything changed in his condition, but at this point it's unlikely…"_

Remembering the doctor's words Henry sighed, tiredly rubbing his hand over his eyes. How was he supposed to go about his regular routine when his son was lying here looking more dead than alive? That certainly wasn't part of his regular routine and how could he just ignore that? How was that in any way regular?

At Henry's insistence Gus had went to shower and eat, a break Henry felt the younger man deserved and so now he had a rare moment alone with his son. Alone with his still, silent, and comatose son.

The doctors had said that coma patients with family and friends to talk to them were often more likely to wake up than the ones without… Henry didn't believe it though. After all, Gus had spoken to Shawn almost continuously and still they were saying his chances were slim to none now. He hadn't shown any signs of waking… none whatsoever.

_"It's unlikely that he'll ever regain consciousness…"_

Talking to him wouldn't help. It wasn't like Shawn could hear him anyway…

_"… go about your regular routine…"_

Words couldn't bring Shawn back now…

Ultimately he would just look stupid, talking to someone who was so obviously beyond any type of response…

It wouldn't help...

It wouldn't help…

"Shawn…"

Henry's voice was hoarse from unshed tears and barely restrained grief.

"It's time to wake up, kid."

This was stupid; Shawn couldn't hear him.

"You've slept long enough now."

His voice did _not_ just break. No, he was _not_ on the edge of crying. Henry Spencer did _not_ cry.

"What do you want me to say, kid? That I miss you? Will that make you wake up? That I need you in my life? That I need to know you're all right?"

This was stupid. Shawn couldn't hear him. And those were _not_ tears running down his face. He was definitely _not_ crying. That was not _him_ drawing in those undignified shaky breaths.

And still Shawn's eyes remained closed, his breathing even and undisturbed, unmoving, and all at once something in Henry broke.

"You win, Shawn," he said, a sob escaping. "You win, okay? I do miss you, and I do need you in my life and I do need to know you're okay. I need you to wake up, son, I don't care what the doctors say; I need you to wake up! Please, Shawn, please wake up… please…"

His breathing hitched then and he put his head on the bed by Shawn's hand, trying to get himself under control.

On the bed Shawn's eyelids fluttered and his fingers twitched, lightly brushing his father's head, causing the older man to jump.

"Shawn? Shawn, are you awake?"

Turning his head slightly, Shawn opened his eyes and blearily he looked around the room, taking in his surroundings for a moment before his gaze settled on his father. "Dad…"

His voice was faint and hoarse from disuse but he was awake.

"Shawn…"

Shock held Henry in his seat for an instant but then all at once he was up and hugging his son fiercely, his relief to great for him to remain sitting, finding he had to touch his son to assure himself it was in fact real.

"Dad… can't… breathe…" Shawn gasped, awkwardly patting his father on the back.

"Sorry," Henry muttered, pulling away, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"What happened?" Shawn asked after a moment, once more taking in his surroundings.

"You were in a motorcycle accident and have been in a coma for the past 2 ½ days," Henry explained and Shawn started, obviously shocked.

"A coma?" he repeated faintly.

"Yes," Henry said, staring down at his son, suddenly feeling angry. "What the hell were you thinking?" he yelled then, the fear and worry of the past 48 plus hours bursting out and getting the better of him.

"Oh, now it's lecture time," Shawn muttered, rolling his eyes. "A minute ago you were hugging me and now you're yelling. Typical."

"It was three in the morning and it was raining! What were you thinking? 2 ½ days, Shawn! I've been here waiting, so _what were you thinking?_"

Shawn stared at his father, suddenly noticing his unshaved face, the lines around his eyes, and the fact that he seemed to have aged 10 years and suddenly his irritation faded as he realized what his father must have been through, and what he was afraid to say now. "Dad," he said softly, lifting up a hand to his father, which the older man ignored.

"What were you thinking, Shawn?" Henry demanded again and Shawn shrugged, his voice gentle as he answered.

"I don't know, Dad. I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to go for a drive."

Shaking his head, suddenly deflating, Henry sank into his chair and stared at his son. "God, kid, you had me worried," he admitted after a moment, his voice so quiet that Shawn almost missed it and he nodded, knowing how hard it must have been for the older man to say that. Then, reluctantly, Henry reached out and took Shawn's still outstretched hand, almost as though to reassure himself that Shawn was in fact awake and well.

"I'm sorry, Pop," Shawn murmured and for a moment they sat there, both content in the other's company.

"So…" Shawn said after a moment, his gaze once more scanning the room. "Where's Gus, and did anyone bring me any pineapple?"

_A/N: So I know that in reality the equipment montioring Shawn would have alerted the nurses and doctors of Shawn's miraculous awakening, but I wanted Henry and Shawn to have those first few moments together so I kind of skipped the part where the nurse/doctor came barging in. Hope that doesn't bug too many people and I hope you enjoyed this! Review and let me know!_


	10. Breathe Again

_Author's Note: Here it is. Enough people have asked for it that I was inspired. Happy? It's the sequel to "Seeking Solace" and "Break Away". (Chapters 5 and 6.) It's what happens when Henry comes home from work and finds Shawn gone. _

_**Disclaimer**: Still not mine. I do own the first season on DVD though... that has to count for something, right? _

**# 10 - Breathe Again**

Entering his house after a long day of paperwork at the station Henry knew instantly that Shawn wasn't home. Not that he'd really expected him to be; the past day or so since the arrest Shawn, in his anger, had been making himself scarce around Henry. The kid had been awake when he had left this morning, Henry knew, but he had sullenly refused to come out of his room. He was probably at Gus's now, knowing Henry would be home about now.

Walking up the stairs on his way to change out of his uniform something made him pause in front of his son's door. It was so quiet…

Shawn was probably at Gus's…

_"How could you have left me in that cell all night and half of the day? I'm your son!"_

Scowling at the memory of his son's furious accusations Henry forced himself to keep walking to his room.

Shawn was at Gus's.

Henry wasn't sorry he had arrested Shawn and he wasn't sorry he had left him in that cell. A strong lesson had been in order. You couldn't go around stealing people's vehicles. The fact that it had been Henry's own truck was beside the point. What if the next time it was somebody else's?

_"I hate you! I wish I could move out! I hate you!"_

A sudden worry clenched at his gut and he frowned. He was being stupid. Shawn was at Gus's. He would be back soon. No doubt later than his curfew just to piss his old man off, but he would be back. He wouldn't leave for good. That was a ridiculous idea.

Shawn was a sullen teenager prone to restlessness and stupid stunts, sure, but he wouldn't actually _leave_ without the intention of coming back without first telling his father. He wouldn't. He was at Gus's. That was all. He would be back soon.

After changing into sweat pants and a tee shirt Henry paused once more in front of his son's door. It wouldn't hurt, he supposed, to call the Guster's and tell Shawn to get home. Shawn would be angry with him for daring to call there, sure, but then, the kid was already angry with him, wasn't he? And at least he, Henry, would know for sure where his son was.

Plan decided Henry went into the kitchen, picked up the phone and dialed. Two rings and then…

"Guster residence. Winifred Guster speaking."

"Henry Spencer. Would you please inform my son that it is time for him to get home now?" Henry asked, rather politely he thought, but still putting just enough menace into his tone when he mentioned Shawn. That ought to do it…

"Henry," Mrs. Guster said, her confusion evident in her voice and Henry knew what she was going to say even before she said it. "Shawn's not here. He hasn't been here since last night."

For a moment Henry didn't know what to say but after a moment he realized that Gus's mother was still waiting for some type of response and so he forced himself to talk beyond the sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry to have bothered you." The words had to be gritted out and it was all he could do to keep his voice steady and he hung up as soon as they had left his lips. _God, what's happening?_ Where was Shawn? If he wasn't with Gus then where was he?

_Breathe. Think. His room!_ He would check Shawn's room. There had to be some clue of where he had went in there.

Half an hour later Henry slammed the door of his son's room and paced the hall agitatedly.

Nothing. He'd found nothing. Shawn's savings and a few of his clothes were gone but as to where he may have gone, nothing.

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_Think…_

Shawn was angry. He was pissed, so where would he go if not to Gus? He didn't have a car, he couldn't have gone far, and he didn't have enough money to buy one, did he?

_Breathe._

Shawn was okay. He had to be. And he, Henry, would find out where the kid had gotten to.

_Just breathe. You're no good to anyone if you panic. Just breathe._

He moved into the living room to pace some more when the phone rang and he rushed to answer it.

"Shawn?"

"Henry? It's Claire."

His ex-wife's voice came through the phone and he paused. _Damn._ What did she want? "Look, Claire, it's not a good time. Shawn ran off somewhere and I have to find him."

"He's here, Henry. He's here with me."

Another pause as Henry struggled with his emotions. He had gone to his mother's. He had somehow made it to Arizona rather than come back home with his father, but he was safe, right? That had to count for something. Never-mind the gnawing ache; Shawn was okay and that was what was important.

"How the hell did he get there?" he snarled after a moment.

"He showed up on a motorcycle. Said he bought it with his savings."

Said in such a calm way, and Henry's blood boiled. He had told the kid he wasn't buying a damn bike. He had told him!

"Tell him to get a real mode of transportation and then get the hell back to Santa Barbara where he belongs!" Henry said gruffly but stopped dead when Claire interrupted, a fierce anger in her voice.

"No. Shawn doesn't want to live with you anymore, Henry, and can you honestly blame him? His graduation night, Henry! His graduation night he borrowed your truck to impress a girl and you arrested him! Your own son! Can you really blame him for not sticking around after that?"

"Don't start with me, Claire," Henry growled. "Not again, we've been through this before."

Claire stopped and for a moment Henry thought she would drop it but then she continued, her voice once again calm.

"Shawn is staying with me, Henry. At least until his 18th birthday, and then he says he wants to travel. Congratulations. You finally succeeded in pushing him away."

He was dreaming. This couldn't really be happening. This was all a dream.

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

Claire was silent, waiting. He had to say something.

"Did you call just to gloat, Claire? Rub it in my face that Shawn is with you and not me?"

"No, Henry." She was still calm. Dangerously so. She was always the most damaging when she had achieved this level of calm. "I just thought you should know how and why you lost your son. Thought maybe you might care a little. And for your information, Shawn didn't want me to call you. I had to wait until he was in bed. He didn't think you would care. Maybe you should think about that, Henry. Your own son doesn't even know if you care about him."

Suddenly Henry was listening to the dial tone and in a fit of rage he slammed it against the wall. Again. And again. And again.

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_Just breathe._

Shawn was okay. He had to focus on that. Shawn was okay.

Couldn't focus on that fact that his son had moved out of the state without telling him. Or that it didn't sound like he intended on coming back to Santa Barbara anytime soon. Or that he hadn't come back because he didn't think Henry cared.

No, he couldn't focus on that…

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

It wasn't over yet. Shawn would come back.

_Breathe._

It was okay. His son wouldn't leave him for good.

_Just breathe again… _

_Breathe…_

_Breathe…_

_A/N: So, did you like it? Review and let me know!_


	11. Memory

_A/N: This one is actually a small part of a longer idea that I have. Unfortuanately I don't have that written yet and don't know when or if it will get written and so for now this is all you get. Hope it's satisfactory and as always, reviews would make my day! _

_**Disclaimer**: Psych and all related characters, sadly, do not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended. _

**# 11 - Memory**

He was lost. He had no idea how to get back to his house. Henry Spencer growled in frustration, looking at the houses around him. He had lived in this neighborhood for over 20 years. 20 years. And now he was lost.

The doctor had said there might be memory loss but this was far beyond what he had expected. He had lived here for over 20 years, damnit! How could he go for a walk and forget how to get back to his own house?

He had been wandering around now for almost two hours, trying to find his way. The fact that it was getting dark now wasn't helping, it only served to confuse him further. In the increasing darkness all the houses were starting to look the same.

He was starting to be worried. As much as he hated to admit it, it was damn scary not being able to retrieve the memory of how to navigate his own neighborhood to get to his own house.

It was almost completely dark now. Only the streetlights drove away the night. Henry sighed; he wanted to go home. He just didn't know where that was, damnit.

Unfortunately, as much as it pained him to accept it, he realized he would have to let someone else in on his embarrassment and humiliation. He needed help. There was no other way out of it.

Sighing, his fingers trembling slightly from anxiety and shame he pulled out his cell phone, selected his son's name in the contacts list and pressed call.

He didn't want to do this. He wanted to find his way on his own. That hadn't been working out for him so far though and the phone was ringing now so he reluctantly resigned himself to his course.

"Hello?" Shawn's voice asked after three rings.

"Shawn, I need you to come over," Henry said, striving to make his voice as normal as possible.

"Dad, it's almost 9:30, I don't feel like cleaning out the attic right now," Shawn said, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"I don't want you to clean out the attic," Henry snapped, unable to make himself come out and say the real reason he needed Shawn to come.

Silence at the other end and Henry knew Shawn was waiting for an explanation.

"Do you care to tell me why you want me over then?" Shawn asked impatiently after a moment.

"I need you to give me a lift to the house," Henry said. There, that wasn't so bad. Maybe he could get away with this after all.

"What's wrong with your truck?" Shawn asked suspiciously.

"I walked," Henry said, and it was true. "Now, it's too dark to walk back."

It even sounded lame in his head and Henry winced. It was dark though.

"Okay," Shawn said after a moment and Henry heard the skepticism but Shawn seemed to be letting it go for now. "Tell me where you are then and I'll borrow Gus's car and come get you."

_Damn._ He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. He glanced around but it was too dark now to even see any distinguishing features to tell Shawn and he gritted his teeth in frustration.

"I don't know," he muttered after a moment, closing his eyes.

"You don't know?" Surprise and confusion in his son's voice now.

"In my neighborhood. Some… somewhere close to… to my house, I think."

It cost him something to admit this, to admit how close he suspected he was, and yet he couldn't find it.

Silence at the other end and then Shawn's voice again.

"I'll be there. Stay where you are."

With that he was gone and Henry snapped his phone shut in relief, closing his eyes. But, God, that was humiliating.

* * *

In the Psych office Shawn had snapped his phone shut as well, and sat, staring across the room for a moment, thinking.

"What's up with your dad?" Gus asked, catching his friend's attention, noting the worry in his eyes and frowning.

"He's lost," Shawn said after a moment. "He's in his own neighborhood but he doesn't know where and he needs me to come find him and take him home. How can he be lost in a neighborhood he's lived in for over 20 years?"

"That's actually not so uncommon for a brain tumor patient," Gus said gently, after a slight pause. "I was reading about it online. Memory loss. They can become lost in a place they've lived all their lives."

"That's weird," Shawn stated, shaking his head, trying to understand how his father, who had taught him to have the memory that he did, could be losing his own. "Dude, can I borrow your car?" he asked, trying to shake the unpleasant thoughts away. "I doubt he'd appreciate it if I showed up to pick him up on my bike."

"Sure," Gus said instantly. "I'll wait here though. He's probably embarrassed enough as it is. You better hurry. It's pretty dark now."

* * *

Thirty minutes later Henry shaded his eyes from a car's approaching headlights, praying it was Shawn but at the same time dreading his son's arrival. Not yet willing to face the questions he would surely have.

The car pulled to a stop beside him though, Shawn's face leaning over to peer through the passenger's side window at him.

"There you are," Shawn said, something like relief in his tone. "You ready?"

"No, Shawn, I've been waiting here for half an hour because I'm _not_ ready," Henry snarled sarcastically, situating himself in the passenger's seat.

"Okay, dumb question," Shawn muttered, pulling away from the curb and rolling his eyes.

"You think?" Henry snapped, staring out the window, avoiding his son's eyes, trying not to express the relief he felt at finally knowing he could relax. Shawn was there now and he would get him home.

They rode the rest of the way in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say, and a few minutes later Shawn parked in Henry's driveway, killing the engine and sitting back, not looking at his father.

Henry shifted uncomfortably. Two blocks. He had been two blocks away and he hadn't been able to find it.

"So…" Shawn said after a minute or so. "Home sweet home."

Henry grunted and exited the car, heading up the driveway and to his front door, Shawn following.

"Coffee?" Henry asked once they had entered the house, heading to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, striving to act as normal as possible.

"Sure," Shawn replied, still following behind him.

In the kitchen Shawn leaned against the table as Henry moved around, filling the coffee pot with water, pouring it in the coffee machine and adding the grounds.

"What happened?" Shawn asked when the coffee started to brew and it became apparent Henry had no intention of turning around and facing him.

"I went for a walk," Henry said gruffly. "Is that a crime now, Shawn?"

"You went for a walk and got lost," Shawn said quietly and Henry slammed his fist down on the counter and whirled to face his son.

"Yes," he snarled fiercely. "I got lost. Happy? I got lost and I couldn't find my way to my own damn house! Satisfied?"

"No, Dad," Shawn murmured. "I'm not happy or satisfied."

The coffee beeped then, jarring the men from their staring contest and Henry turned to pour the cups and after he had handed one to Shawn they both sat down at the table.

They sat quietly at first but after a few minutes Henry sighed. "I'm losing it, kid," he murmured quietly, looking up at Shawn, an indefinable emotion in his bleak eyes. "What if I wake up one morning and don't even know who I am?"

"You have a tumor, Dad. Not Alzheimer's. That's not going to happen," Shawn said and Henry sighed and nodded as he looked back into his coffee.

Looking at his father's dejected form across the table Shawn realized with a start what the indefinable emotion in his eyes was. Fear. His father was afraid.

"Well, Pop," he said softly, lightly. "If that does happen I'll be here. I'll be your memory for you."

A pause as Henry looked up from his coffee, his gaze locking on his son's, his expression for once unguarded.

"I'll bring you home when you get lost."


	12. Insanity

_Author's Note: Um... so I have no idea where this one came from. Like it's namesake it's pure insanity, that's it and that's all. I've never written anything even remotely like this... so please forgive me if you don't like it. It just... kind of... came out, and before I quite knew what I was writing there it was. It's a crossover, as I'm sure you'll notice within the first few lines... Crossed with what, you ask? Well, you'll see. _

_Just relax and try to enjoy the insanity if you can... don't look for any semblance of sense in here though. I highly doubt you'll find it, but if you do then be sure to let me know, because I sure didn't find it. Anyway... enough rambling..._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the following... none of it's mine... though I do own DVDs for all of it..._

**# 12 - Insanity**

Standing on the docks and staring up at the huge, dark ship Gus knew he had to have fallen asleep. The black sails rippled in the breeze and a shiver went through him. _This couldn't be real._

The _Black Pearl_ was only a part of a series of movies. It wasn't real. He couldn't actually be standing in front of it. And yet, here it was and here he was.

Glancing away from the ship for the first time he realized he didn't know exactly _where_ here was. It didn't look like anywhere in Santa Barbara, that was for sure. In fact, if he didn't know better he would say he had fallen right into a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Strange. One moment he had been standing in the Psych office talking to Shawn about watching a movie and the next he was here.

Another breeze came up out of nowhere and with it came the smell of salt water and rum and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"I hate rum," he muttered to himself, not really realizing he was speaking out loud and he jumped when a voice answered him.

"I simply do not understand how a person can _not _like rum, but that aside, as long as you don't try to burn mine I suppose you and I are settled on that account."

Whipping around at the unexpected sound of another voice the first thing he noticed was the blade of a sword dangerously close to his neck and shuddered, forcing his body to freeze.

The man holding the sword was easily the most outlandish figure he had ever seen and his eyes popped in shock.

_This was insane!_ Gaping at the sword wielding man in front of him it took all of Gus's strength not to run away screaming. That, and the sword at his throat of course. That suggested quite clearly that moving at this time would be a mistake.

"However, I'm not sure as I like how you were staring at my ship a moment ago. Do you know who I am?" the man with the sword continued with perfect calm, for all the world like he wasn't holding another man at sword point.

Gus gulped, nodding his head shakily. Of course he knew who the man was. He had recognized him instantly. The long dreadlocks spilling over his shoulders, the dangling beads, and the red bandana over his forehead all spoke for themselves, as did the worn tricorn hat perched on his head.

Captain Jack Sparrow. Pirate Lord of the Caribbean. _But this was impossible! This was insane! _A character from a movie could not be standing here in front of him in this strange place! He lived in reality! Not in some crazy pirate movie!

"Speak up you decidedly un-scabrous dog!" Captain Jack Sparrow demanded forcefully, his expression darkening in suspicion.

"J-Jack S-Sparrow. You're Jack Sparrow," Gus said weakly, his knees trembling, wondering if he was losing his mind and wishing the entirely real looking sword was not pointing at him.

"Captain! Captain Jack Sparrow! Why must you people always forget the captain? It's really not that hard!" Jack said, irritation plain in his voice but he sheathed his sword all the same, seeming to decide that Gus was no threat.

"Now," the pirate captain said, his tone suddenly business like. "Do you mind terribly telling me what you were doing staring at my lovely vessel? Magnificent, isn't she?"

"I-I don't know," Gus stammered, looking around wildly. "I don't belong here! This isn't _right_. You're not real!"

"Am I not?" Jack asked mildly, looking faintly puzzled, patting himself on the chest as though to ascertain that he was, in fact, real.

"No!" Gus burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "You're a movie! You don't actually exist in real life!"

The pirate captain stared at him then, looking calmly perplexed and Gus frowned at the intensity of his gaze. "This isn't real," he repeated in a wild attempt to make the man see that this just wasn't _right._

"Well then," Jack said, his dark eyes unreadable. "Just close your eyes and pretend it's all just a bad dream, mate. Maybe that's all it is."

"Are you serious?" Gus said after a moment, looking at the pirate lord incredulously. After all, he had just told the man that his entire world, his whole existence wasn't real, was in fact a lie, and his response had been to tell him to close his eyes and tell himself it was a bad dream.

Which, Gus reflected, actually made sense in a strange sort of way, but still, if it had been him and someone else had said _his_ world was fake, he would have laughed.

"Yes, I'm quite serious, mate. Just close your eyes and pretend it's not real. Just a bad dream. However, before you go…"

Trailing off the pirate captain reached out his hand, plucked at something on Gus's shoulder and grinned. "My peanut!" he declared victoriously, to Gus's astonishment indeed holding up a peanut.

"Off you go then," Jack said after a moment, holding the peanut and looking expectantly at Gus. "Close your eyes and pretend it's all a dream then."

Gus, for his part feeling slightly ridiculous, decided it couldn't hurt and closed his eyes, telling himself it wasn't real… it was all some sort of waking dream… it wasn't real…

* * *

"Dude, did you hear me?"

Snapping his eyes open and staring around Gus realized with no small measure of relief that he was back. Back in the Psych office with Shawn standing across from him instead of a movie character and he sighed in relief. That was without question the oddest thing that had ever happened to him.

However, it couldn't have been real… he had just imagined it… it really couldn't have actually happened. Captain Jack Sparrow was played by Johnny Depp and he could not actually exist outside of Depp's movie portrayal. That was that.

"Hello? Earth to Gus!"

Giving himself a little shake Gus turned to his best friend, realizing he had been talking all along. "Yes? What did you say?" he questioned, his mind still far away.

"I said, do you want to watch a 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movie? You know, Kiera Knightley, Orlando Bloom, Johnny Depp…"

With a start Gus finally focused on the DVD Shawn was waving in his face and saw a grinning Captain Jack Sparrow staring up at him.

"No!" he shouted, leaping backwards in horror. "No, Shawn, I'm never watching those movies again! They're weird…"

* * *

Miles away, through time and space, in a different dimension, Captain Jack Sparrow stared bemusedly at the space on the docks a few feet away that, until seconds ago, had held a man. A strange man, to be sure. Very oddly dressed and quite jumpy. Then, all at once, he hadn't been there anymore. Disappeared. Vanished. Gone.

Finally, shrugging lightly because, after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow and he had seen much stranger things, he popped the peanut he had taken from the stranger's shoulder into his mouth and started up the gangplank of his ship.


	13. Misfortune

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating. I think it's safe to say I had major writer's block, but finally I forced myself to at least write something and so here this is. Not my best, admittedly, but I kind of like it. Hope you all do as well. Review and let me know!_

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. _

**# 13 - Misfortune**

It was not a good day. Not a good day at all. He had only been up for an hour but he could already tell that today was not a good day.

His alarm clock hadn't gone off and, waking up an hour and a half late he'd had to forego his usual morning run.

Ironing his shirt his hand had slipped and he'd burnt his finger. A minor annoyance but it certainly hadn't cheered him up.

His car had refused to start and so he'd had to call a cab, overpriced though they were.

Stopping at a coffee shop he had found they only had decaf and they were out of sugar.

Of course the cabbie charged him for the time spent in the coffee shop. _Typical._

Now, finally arriving at the station, late, it was safe to say Carlton Lassiter was in a very foul mood.

A very foul mood indeed.

God help whatever poor individual made the mistake of trying to talk to him.

Heading to his desk he groaned to see Spencer, resident pain in the ass, and his sidekick already there and talking to O'Hara. _Perfect._ Just what he needed.

Well, one thing was for certain, the psychic better not talk to him. It was annoying enough dealing with the man on a regular day, but on a day like this, when he didn't even have any caffeine in his system?

There was no way in hell. He would probably explode or something.

No, the psychic better not talk to him…

"Lassy-face! You look awful, dude. The spirits tell me you're not having a very good day so far. Well, you can cheer up now! Gus and I are here and we know how you look forward to our visits."

He grit his teeth as O'Hara giggled.

God hated him.

That's what it was.


	14. Smile

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Never will be. I do own the whole first season on DVD though. _

# 14 - Smile

Today was the day. Today _had_ to be the day; he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Sitting atop his bike outside her apartment building, Shawn sighed, running a hand through his already messed up hair.

God, he was nervous. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that he would be nervous.

He was never nervous.

Yet, sitting here, staring up at her building… he couldn't do this.

It was a mistake. This wasn't for him; he couldn't ask someone to marry him!

He most certainly was _not_ the marrying type.

Unbidden though, an image of her popped into his mind… that blond hair… blue eyes that sparkled when she was happy… and oh, God, he wanted to make her happy… and he wanted to make himself happy…

Maybe… maybe he was the marrying type after all…

But, oh, was he nervous!

He had to do it today though. He couldn't wait any longer. It had to be today.

Knocking on her door a few minutes later Shawn swallowed nervously.

Today was the day. He _would_ do it today.

Then the door opened and his heart was suddenly down in his stomach.

"Shawn!" she exclaimed, blond curls framing her lovely face, her beautiful blue eyes lighting up as a smile curved her lips and Shawn relaxed.

Suddenly he knew. All his doubts and worries gone.

He would do anything for that smile. Anything to see it there on her face. Anything.

For that smile he would move oceans.

Letting out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding he smiled back at her.

"Hey, Jules."

_A/N: Hope you liked. Reviews would be nice. Thanks!_


	15. Silence

_Author's Note: Another update so soon! Wow. So in the pilot episode Henry says to Shawn that he (Shawn) moved away without telling him (Henry). So this fic is kind of based off that, only it takes place after he knows where Shawn is and that he's okay. I guess you can say it's the same story line as Seeking Solace, Break Away, and Breathe Again (chapters 5, 6, and 10), only I think it can stand by itself if you want it too. Anyway, enough rambling! Enjoy! _

_**Disclaimer**: Psych is not mine, nor will it ever be mine. _

**# 15 - Silence**

It was quiet. There wasn't a sound in entire house.

Henry Spencer took a sip of his coffee and listened intently.

It was so quiet.

Shawn would normally be up by now.

Henry took another sip of his coffee.

The silence was almost deafening.

One always knew when Shawn was awake. The teen always found some way to make noise, even if it was only by the shower or those huge yawns of his.

It was amazing how loudly the kid could yawn.

Henry mechanically raised the cup and took another sip.

The house was so quiet.

By now Shawn would normally be in the kitchen, banging around to find breakfast.

Henry sipped his coffee and allowed his gaze to wander over the vacant kitchen.

It may be awhile before Shawn was back in this kitchen.

If, indeed, he ever was.

Henry sipped his coffee.

His cup was almost empty.

It was so quiet.

Funny how the absence of noise seemed so very _loud_ to him now.

Previous mornings he hadn't noticed the noise that his son made.

He wondered now how he could have missed it.

Draining his mug Henry stood, the scraping of the chair against the floor thundering in his ears.

It was so quiet.


	16. Questioning

_**Disclaimer**: Psych is not mine and I'm not making any money off of it. Just having fun._

**# 16 - Questioning**

_"You are also asking me questions and I hear you, I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself." – Walt Whitman_

It had been a tough day.

Henry Spencer closed his eyes and wearily leaned into the couch.

He had buried his father today.

A long, tough day.

And not just for him. For Shawn as well.

The ten year old had been close to his grandfather. Very close. Closer than Henry himself had been to the man.

Running a hand through his hair a sigh escaped him. Close or no the past few days had been very taxing and had taken a lot out of him.

"Dad?"

Shawn's voice, sounding oddly tentative and Henry had to bite back a groan. The kid was supposed to be asleep.

"What are you doing up, Shawn? It's been a long day."

_Too long._ And now all he wanted was some time alone. Time to process his father's death in peace, was that too much to ask?

"I know, it's just…"

"Just what, Shawn?"

"I wanted to ask you a question," Shawn said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Studying his son Henry again realized he wasn't the only one to have suffered a loss here and he sighed, patting the seat next to him.

"What's your question, kid?" he asked once Shawn was seated beside him.

"The priest at the funeral said Grandpa went to Heaven to be with God. Is that true?"

It struck Henry then, how very small Shawn's voice sounded and he again closed his eyes, trying to suppress the pain and grief that had been bubbling just under the surface for the past few days.

How was he supposed to answer this question? He had never really talked about God with Shawn before. Mostly because he wasn't so sure he believed in him himself.

"Dad?"

Shawn was watching him. His wide eyes waiting for an answer, trusting that his father had one.

He had to say something.

"I don't know how to answer that, kid," he admitted finally, heart clenching at the crestfallen look on his son's face.

"It all comes down to faith, Shawn. The only way to get an answer to your question is to decide for yourself what you believe. There's no way to know for sure. We can only choose to believe or not."

"That's not fair. That's a not-answer. How am I supposed to believe in something that I can never get any proof of?"

Seeing the annoyed look on Shawn's face Henry couldn't help the slight sardonic smile as he reached out to ruffle his son's hair.

"That's faith, kid. Now get on to bed. It's late."

Nodding, Shawn stood and slowly walked off toward the stairs, his expression thoughtful. Reaching the stairs however, he turned back to his father again. "I still don't think it's fair," he murmured before turning back around and going to bed.

Alone on the couch in his dark living room Henry's eyes fell on a shadowed picture of his father and himself on a fishing trip years ago.

_"The priest at the funeral said Grandpa went to Heaven to be with God. Is that true?"_

He could have told the kid yes. Could have tried to sugar coat it. That wasn't how he worked though. He didn't shine things up to make them look prettier, and he wasn't going to tell his kid something he wasn't sure of himself.

That was something Shawn had to figure out for himself.

"No, Shawn, I don't think it's fair either," he announced to his empty living room. "Not fair at all."

_A/N: I hope no one was offended by any of the religious/faith talk in here. I personally don't think there was anything offending here but you never really know with that kind of stuff so just know that if something did offend you it was unintentional on my part and you have my apologies. I hope you enjoyed and please drop me a line! (i.e. a review!)_


	17. Blood

_Author's Note: Yay, another one! I know it's been forever but I've had a serious case of writer's block lately unfortunately. But I managed to get this out for you all! So without further ado..._

**# 17 - Blood**

It was late.

Almost midnight, and Juliet O'Hara paced in her apartment.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Again and again she paced and in her mind there was only one thought.

Maybe, if she paced long enough, she could forget.

Maybe she could get those images out of her head.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The kid raising his gun to Lassiter's exposed back.

The murderous determination in his eyes and she had known what she would have to do.

The shock on Shawn's face and the glint of her gun as she raised it, swift and deadly.

The blood. Oh, God, the blood. Blood blossoming on the kid's shirt and oh, God, he was _young!_

Far too young and he hadn't moved again.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

She had never shot anyone before.

Certainly never _killed_ anyone before.

So much blood. Blood everywhere.

And she paced.

If she paced enough maybe it would all just go away. Maybe it was all a bad dream.

She would wake up and find out that she never killed anyone. Oh,

God, please, she never killed a _kid_, of course not! Impossible.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

She was halfway through another circuit of her living room when there was a knock on the door.

She glanced at the wall clock, frowning. It was a little late for visitors and she paused in her pacing, wondering if they would go away if she didn't answer right away but another knock proved this particular caller wouldn't be ignored and she sighed, crossing the room to look through the peephole.

"Shawn!" she exclaimed in shock, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jules," he said easily, with one glance taking in her frizzed out hair and bloodshot eyes. "I was passing by and saw your lights on. Just thought I'd drop by, see how you were doing."

"Well, that's very sweet of you, Shawn, but I'm fine," she said, and she sounded unconvincing even to her own ears.

Shawn raised his eyebrows and Juliet knew he didn't believe her. Knew he saw right through her. Damn him.

"Good. Glad to hear it. Since I'm here though, do you want any Chinese?" he said, holding up a take-out bag she hadn't noticed until just then.

Juliet hesitated. If she was honest with herself, a part of her wanted Shawn there. Wanted the comfort his easy smile and laughing hazel eyes would bring.

Another part of her though, was afraid. Afraid of what might happen having him here while she was feeling so vulnerable.

"It's late, Shawn," she said finally. "Some other time, okay?"

"Oh come on, Jules. All you're going to do is pace some more anyway. You might as well eat some Chinese with me," Shawn said quickly and at her surprised look and he smiled and said, "Psychic."

"Right," she said, suddenly very tired, emotionally and physically and with another sigh she allowed him entrance. "I really am okay though, Shawn," she said after a moment, joining him on the couch as he spread out the food. "You really don't have to do this."

_Except he was so young and there was so much blood! So much blood for one little bullet._

Leaning back Shawn turned his wonderful hazel eyes to her and gave her a surprisingly gentle smile that said he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Psychic, Jules," he said softly. "You can't fool me." Then, with an uncharacteristically serious expression he took her hand and said, "You don't have to pretend with me, Jules. What happened today was very traumatic and it's okay if you're not okay."

"I'm a cop, Shawn. I do have to be okay with it. It's my job," Juliet said stiffly, pulling her hand away and fighting for control.

"No it's not. That's not something you have to be okay with. You did what you had to do Jules, but he was just a kid and that has to be tough! Even Lassy wouldn't be totally okay with that," Shawn said gently in an effort to make her understand and Juliet stifled a sob.

"Nice try, Shawn. You and I both know Carlton wouldn't let this affect him. Nothing gets under his skin," Juliet said, sniffing a little and looking away.

"Not true, Jules. I know," Shawn said softly, reaching out and taking her hand again.

"There was just so much blood," Juliet whispered. "So much blood." Mutely Shawn pulled her into a hug and she shuddered against him, struggling fiercely not to cry. It was so much harder with Shawn's arms around her though but a traitorous part of her refused to allow her to pull away. It just felt so _safe_ here. "He couldn't have been older than 15," she said, almost against her will, her voice choked with tears.

"He was a killer, Jules. You saved Lassiter's life. He would have killed him; you saw that as clearly as I did," Shawn said firmly, lifting her chin so that her eyes looked into his. "He would have killed him and then he would have turned that gun on the rest of us, kid or not. You had to shoot him. He was a killer, Jules. He had a gun and he was a killer. It was self-defense."

"I know," Juliet whispered, looking into his eyes. "I just… why did it have to be me?" she asked finally, her voice trembling.

"I don't know," Shawn murmured, wishing in a way that he very rarely did that he had been holding a gun in that moment. Wishing he could have been the one to pull that trigger, anything to spare her this pain. "I don't know," he murmured again, pulling her tighter against him and at long last she buried her face in his shirt and succumbed to the healing tears.

_A/N: Review please!_


	18. Rainbow

_**Disclaimer**: Psych and all related characters do not and never will belong to me. Much to my chagrin. _

**# 18 - Rainbow**

Slamming his kitchen door Henry Spencer stomped onto his porch and stared upwards as lightning forked across the sky, rain came down in sheets and thunder boomed overhead.

The weather outside matched the weather inside him.

He and Shawn had gotten into it again today. It seemed to be all they were capable of. Fighting.

Henry walked out into the rain as the thunder roared again and lightning lit up the sky.

Why couldn't he ever have a normal conversation with his son without it turning into a full-blown argument? Why did everything always have to end badly?

The thunder roared again and a slam from inside the house had Henry turning around and running up the porch stairs in an instant. In the kitchen he froze, having heard a muttered cursing from the next room.

Someone was in there.

"Who's there?" he called out sharply, advancing slowly forward, painfully aware of the fact that his gun was currently upstairs in his bedside cabinet. Of absolutely no use whatsoever to him now.

"Dad?"

Relief coursed through Henry as he stepped into the living room and flipped on the light. "Shawn?"

His son stood there, leather jacket dripping with water and helmet in hand.

"What are you doing back here?"

"Forgot my cell phone," Shawn said shortly. "It's on the table in the kitchen," he muttered, brushing past his father, not meeting his eyes.

"Shawn, wait," Henry said quickly and Shawn froze in the kitchen doorway, listening but not turning to face the older man.

A thousand apologies flickered through Henry's mind and he hesitated, taking in his son's sodden and unmoving back. Could he do it? Could he really apologize for the words he'd said?

Silence stretched and finally Henry forced himself to speak. "Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow?"

"Dinner?" Shawn said incredulously, turning now and gaping at his father in amazement and with some surprise Henry realized he was just as startled by what had come out of his mouth as Shawn was. He had no intention of backing down now though. Shawn would just have to accept that he couldn't apologize.

"You said you were coming," Henry said simply, his words sounding ludicrous even to him.

Shaking his head, Shawn stomped into the kitchen and grabbed his phone, stuffing it into his pocket. "Unbelievable," he muttered.

"Well?" Henry snapped impatiently, watching Shawn stride back through the living room and toward the front door.

Once more Shawn turned, studying his father, his expression contemplative. After a moment he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, sure. I'll come," he said wearily.

And he was gone, the dull roar of his motorcycle fading into the distance.

Outside, on his back porch, Henry gazed upwards at the sky again.

The rain was thinning now. The thunder and lightning had died. Slowly, a rainbow was forming. The sky was at peace once more and Henry smiled.

The weather outside matched the weather inside him.

_Author's Note: Review please!_


	19. Gray

_Author's Note: Hello all! It's been ages, I know. My apologies. My thoughts have been somewhat disconnected of late, making writing rather more difficult than I normally find it. In addtion to that, for the past week I've been sick, which hasn't helped matters. I can only plead your forgiveness. After all, I am back now. That's got to count for something, right?_

_Anyway, this is an odd little piece. Again with the disconnected thoughts, and I think that shows in this. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I hope it's enjoyable and reviews would go a long way in making me feel better I'm sure! _

**# 19 - Gray**

Pain washed over him in sickening waves and he couldn't help but moan into the grayness that was all he could see.

The grayness and the pain were all that comprised of his world.

A bleak, unending grayness that stretched into eternity.

_The sky_, some part of his mind whispered.

It was the sky. Soon it would rain and he could only hope he would be under some sort of cover before than.

He couldn't really muster the strength to be too concerned though and he wondered vaguely if he should be concerned about _that_.

Ultimately though, it all required too much effort and so he resolved to stop wondering.

He was pretty sure he was alone, the grayness and the pain his only company. Dimly he wondered where all the other colors had gone. There had been others, he was sure of it. Red mostly. Lots and lots of red, but even that was gone now.

After awhile, he really couldn't tell how long. Minutes maybe. An eternity. He heard a voice.

What the voice was saying though, he wasn't sure and he struggled to listen through the pain, to concentrate on something other than the oppressing gray bleakness and the hurt.

"Shawn…"

Faintly.  
"Shawn… can you hear me?"

In some vague disconnected way he wondered how this voice could know his name. Such a sweet voice. Surely something his mind had dreamt up to help him feel better.

"Shawn… Shawn, please…"

Soft and refreshing. A cool ocean's breeze during a hot summer's day.

"Open your eyes, Shawn."

Open his eyes? When had he closed them? He had no memory of closing his eyes. So strange.

"Please, Shawn… Open your eyes."

A stifled sob in the voice now and his heart wrenched. She shouldn't be crying. Not over him. He would try to listen, he decided. Anything to make the grief in that beautiful voice go away.

He wondered idly if the red would come back, tinged with the gray when he opened his eyes and he hoped it wouldn't. The red had come seconds before the pain, he remembered, and it had scared him.

The pain still flowed over him, constant, unending, making even the normally simple task of opening his eyes a difficult one.

And then there was the vast gray again. His eyes must be open then. He had done it.

Distantly he noted there were still no real colors though.

The rain would come very soon.

Suddenly blond curls brushed his face and then he was staring into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he had ever seen and the gray was momentarily gone.

"Jules," he croaked, feeling her tears falling on him, or maybe it was the rain, he wasn't sure, really, but the gray was gone and she was there and his heart rejoiced.

_A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated and much loved! _


	20. Fortitude

_Author's Note: Hello! Me again. This one is just a brief little look into a moment in Shawn's childhood. Hope it's enjoyable. Review please!_

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Never will be. _

Fortitude- patient courage under affliction, privation, or temptation; moral strength or endurance

**# 20 - Fortitude**

Will power is an essential part of life, his father told him. Power of the mind. Everyone has to learn it sometime. Even if what you want is right in front of you, it doesn't mean you should take it, his dad said.

Five-year-old Shawn Spencer stared at the freshly baked cookies, a pout forming on his small face.

The tantalizing odor wafted to his nostrils and he licked his lips.

They smelled so good.

_Will power._

It seemed he could hear his father's voice whispering in his ear.

_Don't take the cookies. Be strong. _

The cookies sat there innocently and little Shawn took a deep breath, quickly glancing around the kitchen.

No one was there.

He inched closer.

_Will power._

He frowned. Hesitated.

Then, reaching out quickly Shawn snatched up one of the cookies and hurried up to his bedroom with his prize.

Will power could wait another day.

Besides, these were _cookies_.

His father couldn't have meant he shouldn't eat _cookies_.


	21. Vacation

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. So sad. _

_Because sometimes we all just need a little vacation._

**# 21 - Vacation**

The sun was very low in the many colored sky, a million sparkles glittering on the water, and Juliet O'Hara sighed, the beauty of it all making her shiver.

In response, the arms around her tightened and in this moment she was completely and utterly content.

Standing there on the beach, wrapped in Shawn's arms Juliet couldn't help but smile. "I needed this. It's been such an awful day," she said softly.

"It's over now," Shawn murmured, brushing a kiss to her head and she nodded, sighing contentedly once more.

"This is just what I needed," she said again. "How do you always know just what I need?" she asked softly and she felt rather than saw him smile.

"Psychic."

_Author's Note: Yeah, not much to it. Just a small bit of fluff I suddenly got the desire to write. Any thoughts? Like it? Yes? No? Let me know. _


	22. Mother Nature

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Much to my chagrin._

_**Warnings**: Post season. Future fic._

**# 22 - Mother Nature**

He was late.

Not that she was worried. Of course not.

Thunder rumbled and seven seconds later lightning streaked across the sky. Not that she was counting.

She was sure he had a good reason for being late and for not calling. She wasn't worried.

Juliet Spencer sighed, staring out the window at the stormy night sky.

It's not like he had never been late before. He wasn't always the most responsible of people. For other people. It was just; he had rarely ever kept her waiting.

She wasn't worried though. He had to have a reason for being late and for not calling.

The storm was probably holding him up. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to ride his motorcycle in that. And of course he had insisted on taking the motorcycle.

Moving forward she opened the window, feeling the rain falling on her through the screen. Refreshing. And if she happened to hear his motorcycle that much sooner, well…

It's not like she was worried.

Maybe the private case he had been working on had just run longer than expected. No biggie. Either way he was fine.

The thunder seemed to boom especially loudly now that the window was open and she jumped, startled.

"Mommy?"

Of course the storm would wake Millie. She hadn't thought of that.

Juliet sighed, turning to survey her four-year-old daughter, the child's tousled blond hair and rumpled pink nightdress wafting gently in the breeze from the window. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Where's Daddy?" the little girl asked, shivering and reaching out to be held.

"He'll be home soon," Juliet told her, picking her up and turning to close the window to still her shivers.

She hoped he would be home soon. Not that she was worried.

"Are you worried, Mommy?" Millie asked then, and Juliet started, wondering how the little girl had picked up on her thoughts so accurately.

"No," she said firmly, locking her gaze with her daughter's reassuringly. "There's nothing to be worried about. Why? Are you worried?"

"No," Millie said solemnly, shaking her head back and forth.

_Right._ She and Millie were both definitely _not_ worried. Now if only Shawn would come home so they could both stop not worrying.

Mother and daughter were quiet for a few minutes then, the latter resting her head on the former's shoulder, and the rain seemed to slow, the thunder and lightning receding.

They heard him before they saw him, a roar in the night and Millie lifted her head, recognizing the sound and a moment later his bike's headlight washed up the driveway.

At the door when he came in, taking off his wet jacket and helmet he grinned, spotting them standing there. "My two favorite ladies," he greeted, laughing as Millie squirmed to free herself of her mother's hold and ran to him.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed gleefully and Shawn, still laughing, scooped her up.

"Shawn," Juliet greeted, deliberately more reserved.

He was safe. Not that she had ever thought otherwise of course.

Looking at her over the top of their daughter's head, taking everything in as only Shawn could, his gaze softened.

"I would have called," he told her gently. "I tried. The phones were down. I couldn't get a signal."

Yes. She should have checked the phones. She nodded. "I knew there was a reason."

Shawn smiled, walking forward and shifting Millie to one side so he could wrap an arm around her as well and Juliet smiled, returning the hug.

He was home. Finally. Not that she'd been worried. Of course not.

_A/N: So, anyone like the name Millicent? I don't. However, the show has suggested that Juliet does. So. I shortened it to Millie. I can tolerate that. But her full name is Millicent. Poor kid. _


	23. Cat

_A/N: More fluff. Enjoy. _

_**Disclaimer**: Don't own Psych or any related characters. I do own Meeka (who is based off a cat I used to know). And the first season of Psych on DVD. _

**# 23 - Cat**

This was it. He had to stop stalling. It was time. Looking down at the gray Persian in his arms he let out a shaky breath. _Now or never._ "Ready to do your stuff, Meeka?" he whispered, and the cat, Meeka, blinked up at him and purred, her blue eyes intent. "Just like we talked about, yeah?"

Shawn nodded to himself, glanced into the bedroom where Juliet lay sleeping and took a deep breath, bending down to loosely tie the ribbon with its precious cargo around the cat's neck. "There you go," he murmured, straightening up to lean against the doorway. "Go on. It's all up to you now."

With a soft meow, as though reassuring him, Meeka turned and sauntered into the bedroom, leaping lightly onto the bed.

Gently she walked up to Juliet's face and nuzzled it, meowing quietly.

"Hmm, hello, Meeka," Juliet murmured, reaching automatically to stroke the cat. Running her hand over Meeka's head her finger snagged on the bow and her eyes opened in sleepy surprise. "What do you have, silly girl?" she said softly, propping herself up on her elbow and trailing her fingers over the pink ribbon tied into a bow behind the cat's head. Suddenly her breath caught as she found the dangling object under the animal's chin.

With trembling fingers she untied the bow, and, with both hands held the ribbon up, staring, transfixed at the diamond ring looped in the center. "Oh," she breathed, and from the doorway Shawn shifted and walked into the room to kneel in front of where she sat on the bed.

Looking into his uncharacteristically serious hazel eyes some part of Juliet noted that she'd never seen him really nervous but that was what he definitely was now. "Oh, Shawn…"

"So what do you say, Jules?" he murmured, his voice husky and Juliet blinked back tears. "I know you said you didn't believe in the whole marriage thing, but you also said if a guy couldn't bowl it was a deal-breaker and here we are."

"Shawn," Juliet whispered, a surprised chuckle escaping her, a tremulous smile on her face. So like Shawn to mention that now.

Shawn grinned nervously back at her. "Will you marry me, Juliet?" he murmured, his voice soft and gentle and Juliet took a deep breath, preparing herself for the only answer she could give to this man that she loved more than her own life. The answer that would undoubtedly change his life and hers forever.

"Yes," she whispered.

_A/N: Ever since I wrote number 14, "Smile", I've been intending to do a scene where Shawn actually does propose to Juliet and here it is. I figure if anyone can train a cat to help him propose it's Shawn. So there you have it. Like? Yes? No? Let me know!_


	24. No Time

_**Disclaimer**: My therapist tells me it's not mine. (long suffering sigh) _

_**Warning**: Character death. _

_Author's Note: Because I've never seen a story where Lassiter dies so I thought I'd make one. That's not to say there's not one already out there, just that I haven't seen it. So, here we go..._

**# 24 - No Time**

_It was a position she had hoped never to be in. A choice she had hoped never to have to make._

_Lassiter was down with a gunshot wound to the chest area and it was bad. The man who had fired the gun was getting away. A drug dealer who sold to children, among others, and obviously had no compunctions to using his piece. _

_To stay meant increasing Lassiter's chances of surviving until the already radioed for help arrived. It also meant letting the perp get away to destroy more lives. _

_To leave meant Lassiter's chances of survival were that much less and she _maybe_ got the guy. _

_In the end it was Lassiter who decided it for her. Lassiter, already chalk white with blood loss, who managed to open his eyes and force out through gritted teeth what would be his last words to her. _

_"There's no time for me, O'Hara. Go. Get him. It's the job."_

_And when she still hesitated._

_"As your superior officer, I _order_ you. Go! You can't… let him get away."_

_So she went. All in a matter of seconds, and after a brief shoot-out, in which she was unscathed, she got her man._

_Upon returning the paramedics and back up had arrived but it was too late. Lassiter was dead and his words came back to haunt her. _

"There's no time for me… go!"

_No time… no time… no time…_

* * *

"Nooooooooooo!"

Juliet O'Hara jerked up in bed screaming, the dream that was really a memory still fresh in her mind. "Lassiter," she breathed. "No, no, no, no."

"Ssssh." A voice in the darkness, gentle arms enveloping her and she cried into Shawn's chest while he whispered soothing nothings into her ear. "It's okay, Jules… It wasn't your fault… I'm here now… It's all right…"

* * *

The day of the funeral dawned bright and clear, a perfect Santa Barbara day; as if the heavens themselves were mocking her despair and her guilt.

"I shouldn't go," she said, changing her mind in the middle of dressing for what felt like the millionth time. "How can I face his family? His mother?"

Shawn just looked at her, his gaze knowing. "It wasn't your fault, Juliet," he said softly, the use of her true name letting her know the depth of his sincerity.

She sighed. "I was his partner," she said, matter of fact, but she finished dressing nonetheless.

* * *

Only a handful of people from the station showed up, Karen Vick and Buzz McNabb among them. The chief's husband and Buzz's wife were there, along with Henry Spencer. Lassiter's mother was, of course, in attendance. His ex-wife was not.

He deserved better.

Shawn, Juliet, and the chief all spoke. People cried. It was sad.

But he had deserved better.

* * *

That night Juliet woke from the midst of another nightmare and Shawn was there. He held her again and then they went into the kitchen to drink some hot tea.

"It's not your fault, you know," Shawn told her.

Juliet looked at him and after a moment sighed and nodded. "I know," she admitted and when Shawn stared at her skeptically she elaborated. "Intellectually, I know it's not my fault. I do. I was just doing my job. I know I can't keep thinking what-if, it's just… it's hard. He was my partner."

Her voice broke on the last and Shawn reached across the table and took her hand. "I know," he told her softly. "But you'll be fine, Jules. You'll heal. I can tell."

Juliet smiled, squeezed his hand and nodded again. "Thank you. I know you're right, of course. You're always right. I know." She nodded again and at that moment her expression was confident, she _would_ heal. "I know."

And she did.


	25. Trouble Lurking

_Author's Note: Just a very short bit of fluff. Enjoy. _

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine. So sad. _

**# 25 - Trouble Lurking**

The day his son was born, Henry Spencer would always remember as the best day of his life.

From the moment he had seen that beautiful baby boy cradled in his beloved wife's arms he had loved him. Loved him more than he had ever thought possible.

"Shawn Henry Spencer," Madeline had cooed softly. "Welcome to the world."

Shawn had made a gurgling noise then, opening his eyes for the first time and looking up at his parents.

"Hey, little guy," Henry whispered, his finger lightly tracing over his new son's hair and Madeline chuckled.

"Oh, Henry, look at those eyes," she murmured. "He looks mischievous already."

"Trouble," Henry agreed, a soft grin on his face.

"This one's going to give you a hard time, my dear," Madeline said lightly, planting a kiss on the baby's head and smiling.

"That's okay," Henry said, his eyes dancing with happiness. "It will all be worth it. One day this little guy will be the best cop on the force."

_A/N: Yeah. Short. Still though, what do you think? Was it good? Did it suck? What?_


	26. Tears

_A/N: Huh? _When Mavericks Collide_? That's got to be someone else's story! Surely if it were mine I wouldn't leave it so long without updating! No, it's got to be someone else's. --shifts nervously--_

_Anyway, I hope people enjoy this little piece and I'd really appreciate a review! _

_**Disclaimer**: Psych and all related characters do not and never will belong to me. So sad._

_**Warnings**: Character Death. Tear jearker (hopefully). _

**# 26 - Tears**

It was daytime and the sun was shining when Shawn Spencer's world came to a screeching, shattering halt.

The sun wasn't supposed to be shining at moments like that. It was supposed to be raining. Hell, not just raining, storming. A fucking tornado and hurricane combo should have been happening!

The sun was _not_ supposed to be shining.

It was _not_ supposed to be bright and cheerful.

But it was.

The doorbell rang that day, just like any other day, and if Shawn had known it was the beginning of the end he may never have answered it.

In his darker moments he liked to imagine that would have stopped it from ever happening. If he hadn't opened the door maybe it would never have happened. Maybe it would never have been real.

He had answered the door that day though.

He had opened it without ever knowing how his life would change.

But change it did.

* * *

_Diiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggg!_

"Daddy! Someone's at the door!" Millie, Shawn and Juliet's five-year-old daughter shouted, running into the kitchen where her father was doing the dishes from breakfast.

"I'm coming, Mille-Girl, hold your horses," Shawn laughed, tossing the towel on the counter and going to the door.

"Chief! Lassy!" Shawn exclaimed, opening the door, grinning at his unexpected guests. "Are we having a party? Why didn't anyone tell me? Where's Jules?"

"Mr. Spencer," the chief said after a moment, something strange in her voice and Shawn felt a sudden rush of fear.

"Chief?"

He knew it all in that one instant. It was all written on her face and he took an involuntary step backward.

_No!_

_Jules wasn't there._

"Aunt Karen! Uncle Lassy!" Millie shouted then, running and jumping into a surprised Lassiter's arms.

"Oh… er… hello… Millie…" the detective said, holding the child at arm's length, and the little girl giggled, swinging her legs, unaware that from this moment on nothing would ever be the same, unaware that her father had already entered into a kind of hell.

"Mr. Spencer… maybe Millie should go to her room for a little while," Vick said then, raising her eyebrows and Shawn shook his head, suddenly and inexplicably wanting his daughter to stay exactly where she was.

Anything to delay what was coming…

_Jules wasn't there. _

_No…_

"Daddy?"

There was a pout in Millie's voice and Shawn forced his attention to her.

"Do I have to go to my room? Is something wrong?"

Millie's eyes were troubled now, studying her father's face from the floor where Lassiter had put her and with an effort he smiled.

"Everything will be okay," he murmured, knowing he wasn't being very convincing.

_Jules wasn't there. God, why wasn't she there?_

"Sweetie, why don't you go to your room? Detective Lassiter and I need to talk to your father." Karen said then, glancing back at Shawn.

"Daddy?" Millie whispered and when Shawn nodded she slowly walked up the stairs.

"Tell me where Jules is," Shawn said once his daughter was out of earshot, panic shooting through him when Lassiter refused to look at him and the chief hesitated, also looking away, an indefinable emotion on both of their faces.

_Grief._

_No…_

_Jules wasn't there._

_No…_

"Where is she?" Shawn demanded then, his voice gaining in volume.

"Spencer…" Lassiter said then. "Spencer, there was a shoot out…"

Ice flooded Shawn's veins. "Is she hurt?"

She was far worse than hurt, he knew. Had known since the moment the chief had first spoken his name.

_No._

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer, I'm afraid she didn't make it," Karen said softly, and her eyes shimmered.

_No. Impossible._

_Jules…_

"What do you mean?" Shawn demanded then, backing up another step, his voice suddenly harsh. "Where is my wife?"

"She's dead, Spencer," Lassiter said, his voice breaking and Shawn shook his head, suddenly angry.

How dare Lassiter's voice break? How dare him say Juliet was dead? She couldn't be dead! She wouldn't leave him! She wouldn't leave Millie. Not Jules. Never Jules.

"She's not coming back. I'm so sorry, Shawn," the chief whispered, and such was the way Shawn Spencer's world shattered.

* * *

"Time for your bath Millie," Gus said tiredly, reaching for his goddaughter's hand, but she pulled away, tears streaming down the face that was so like Juliet's.

"NO!" the little girl screamed. "I want my mommy and daddy!"

"Millicent Annabelle! You do not yell at Gus," Henry Spencer said sternly, standing in the living room doorway with his arms crossed.

"Where are my mommy and daddy?" Millie screamed, far beyond listening to the warning in her grandfather's voice and Henry's face softened, grief coming through.

"You know what happened to your mommy, Mille. And your daddy will be back soon."

"I want my mommy and daddy NOW!" Millie screamed; fast approaching hysterics and Gus looked at Henry in panic as the little girl sobbed.

"What do we do?"

"Damnit! Where the hell is Shawn? He said he'd be back an hour ago!" Henry whispered fiercely, moving forward to pick up his granddaughter, but seeing what he was doing she darted around him and ran out into the hallway screaming.

"Daaaddddddddy! Mommmmmmmmmmmy!"

"I'd just caught her!" Gus shouted in exasperation as he and Henry took off after her for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Millie was never this much trouble. Never. The little girl wasn't taking her mother's death well, and her father leaving to get milk an hour and a half ago and not coming back hadn't helped. She'd gotten increasingly upset. And that was putting it mildly.

She was just scared, Gus knew.

She didn't understand, and all she wanted was for her parents to make everything all right like they always had in the past.

Her grandfather and her Uncle Gus just didn't cut it, however much she loved them.

"Gotcha!" Henry grunted, snagging Millie as she tried to run up the stairs.

"I WANT DADDY!" the little girl screeched and Gus winced.

"That's it," Henry snarled, handing his squirming granddaughter to a horrified Gus and pulling out his cell phone. "I'm going to end this."

* * *

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Shawn stared into his glass, steadfastly ignoring the phone on the counter beside him. It would only be his father again, wanting him to come home no doubt.

And he couldn't do that.

Not yet.

He wasn't ready to face his daughter.

Wasn't ready to explain, yet again, that she would never see her mother again.

Couldn't stand the tears and the questions anymore.

There was no way he was going to survive this. He wasn't cut out to be a single parent.

He needed Jules. Needed her like he needed air to breathe.

Shawn sighed, swirling his drink before taking another gulp.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't face going back. For the record, he _had_ just stepped out to get milk for his daughter's supper. That hadn't been a lie.

She needed to eat, after all. And milk was important. It had Vitamin D.

It had all become a bit too much though, and almost as soon as he had stepped out the door, the grief had overcome him and he had ended up here instead.

He couldn't go back. Couldn't let her see him like this.

Jules was dead.

Millie would be fine with his dad and Gus, he knew.

He just couldn't go back right now. Everywhere there were memories of Juliet and he couldn't take it.

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

_Jules was dead._

_What else could possibly matter?_

_Jules was dead._

* * *

"Spencer! What the hell are you doing?"

"Lassy," Shawn greeted mildly, his eyes glazed as he took another drink.

"Are you drunk?" the detective demanded incredulously, his eyes on the glass in the Shawn's hand and Shawn laughed bitterly. Not at all his usual laugh.

"I wish."

"Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?" Lassiter demanded, sitting down next to the other man.

"Trying to forget," Shawn said, waving his hand broadly and laughing that laugh that was so unlike him again. "As if I could, right?" he muttered, his attention seemingly drifting away.

Lassiter shook his head, deciding he really didn't want to know what the younger man meant by that and instead said, "You need to get home, Spencer. Your father called me. Your daughter's in hysterics."

To his surprise the psychic frowned then, shaking his head. "She doesn't need me," he said abruptly. "I can't be a single parent, Lassy. I can't do it. Jules could do it. She needs Jules."

"Spencer, O'Hara's dead," Lassiter said then, completely out of his element and blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.

The look Shawn gave him then was so devastated and heartbroken that for the first time the detective felt a hint of panic. What had he gotten himself into when he'd agreed to come looking for Shawn?

"I know that," the psychic said, his voice breaking. "Don't you think I know that? But I can't _do_ this! I _need_ Jules! There's nothing left without her!"

"What about your daughter?" Lassiter said sharply. "O'Hara wouldn't want you to forget about her."

Shawn let out a stifled sob then, burying his head in his arms.

"I haven't forgotten her, Lassy," he whispered, his voice muffled. "How could I? She and Jules were my world! But I'm not good for her; I can't raise her all by myself! If one of us had to die, why couldn't it have been me? Jules was strong. She would have been okay. It should have been me, damnit! Millie got left with the wrong parent!"

There was a long pause and Lassiter sighed, the pain of his partner's death still fresh on his mind and wishing he were anywhere but here.

"That's not true, Spencer and you know it. Whether or not I can understand it, O'Hara loved you, and she would have been just as lost as you are. As for Millie, she's stuck with you now; your doubts don't matter anymore. She's your daughter, Spencer. She needs you. She's grieving too."

Shawn chuckled then, running his hands through his hair and sounding somewhat more like himself. "Wow, Lassy, that was deep. Who would have thought you had it in you? You're really just a big squishy teddy bear inside, aren't you?"

Lassiter rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation then but inwardly he was just relieved Shawn was joking again. This was a Spencer that he knew how to deal with.

"What are you drinking?" he snapped irritably. "Can you even walk?"

"'Course I can walk," Shawn said indignantly, standing up and indeed seeming quite well balanced.

"Uh huh," Lassiter said, still skeptical, reaching over and snatching the glass off the counter and sniffing it.

Shawn smirked at the detective's puzzled expression.

"What the hell is this?"

"Coke," Shawn said simply and when Lassiter still looked confused, he sighed. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't get drunk. I wanted to, but, well, I have a daughter Lassy!" Mock outrage in his voice. Weakly done, but better than nothing. "And she wouldn't want it," he added softly after a moment, and Lassiter knew he wasn't talking about Millie anymore and he nodded.

"No, she wouldn't."

* * *

Pulling up in front of the house they could hear the little girl's screams from outside and Lassiter winced. She apparently hadn't calmed down any since Henry had called him. He had given Spencer a ride even though the man wasn't drunk. Somehow he didn't think all that grief and driving should mix.

"Thanks, Lassy," Shawn said, getting out quickly and jogging up to the front door.

In the car Lassiter sighed. "You're welcome, Spencer," he said quietly after Shawn had disappeared into the house in answer of his daughter's screams, and when said screams died down Lassiter smiled softly, knowing the psychic and his daughter would be all right and his partner could rest in peace, knowing her family was okay.

* * *

"Dadddddddddddy!" Millie screamed, sobbing. Her grandfather and Uncle Gus had managed to wrestle her through a bath and into her nightdress and now she was in the living room once more.

"He'll be home soon, Millie," Gus said desperately, praying his words were true.

"Millie, come here," Henry said, holding out his arms. "Come sit on my lap and we'll wait for your daddy. Acting like that isn't going to bring him here any faster."

"I want Daddy!"

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when the door opened and Shawn walked in, guilt and grief on his face.

"Daddy!"

And Millie was across the room and in his arms and Shawn scooped her up, stifling a sob as he buried his head in her blond curls, so like her mother's.

God, he loved this little girl, she was more important than anything else and as she sobbed into his shoulder his heart clenched. Lassiter was right, he wasn't the only one grieving, and this was hell for her too, he knew.

"Glad you're back, kid," Henry said after a moment, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Yeah, dude," Gus said softly, meeting his friend's eyes and smiling and Shawn took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry, guys," he whispered, gently rocking his daughter, who was fast approaching sleep, exhausted from all her crying and knowing only that she was finally in the arms of the most important person left in her world.

"It's okay, Shawn. I think just about anyone would need some time alone to try to adjust after all of this," Gus said sympathetically. "We understand."

Henry nodded and Shawn felt a weight that he hadn't even been aware of lift off his shoulders.

"Just remember, kid, you're not the only one who's adjusting," Henry said softly, nodding at Millie and Shawn nodded, hugging her tightly.

"I won't."

Millie was his world now. Despite his doubts he would have to make it for her. She was all that mattered. He wouldn't forget.

--

_A/N: So what did you think? Was it sad? By the way I forgot to mention at the top that this could kind of be looked at as a prequel type thing to #8, "Innocence". There kind of along the same story plot and I imagine this as happening first. _

_So. Review please, and I'll try to get that other author to update "When Mavericks Collide" soon! LOL!_


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